


Crystalline and The Brightest Blue

by Lunarium



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Holidays, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Minor Injuries, Multi, New Years, Polyamory, Snow, Snowball Fight, dance, non-binary Pidge, she/her pronouns for pidge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-14
Updated: 2018-01-14
Packaged: 2019-03-03 03:04:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13332132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lunarium/pseuds/Lunarium
Summary: After a near-fatal battle with the Galra Empire, Team Voltron succeed once again in the liberation of an asteroid belt from tyrannical reign, all in time to rest up for a bit and enjoy in their new years celebration.





	Crystalline and The Brightest Blue

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TereziMakara](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TereziMakara/gifts).



The beaming smile of the Zarentian leader, The Dlaneah as she was known to her people, glowed from every screen by the time the Paladins reached the observation deck. They had been asleep in the lounge room when Coran went to fetch them. The leader Zarentia wished to thank the paladins of Voltron and Princess Allura personally for freeing her planet from rule under the Galra Empire. 

It had been a grueling battle. Zarentia was one of the five small inhabitable planets of an astroid belt, and a battle among astroids made for an impossibly difficult battle field. Communications went down, and Pidge, with the Green Lion being the smallest, had found herself cornered on all sides by Galra ships before her friends swept in for a last-minute rescue. Lance’s lion had been almost torn in half had Hunk not come in and crushed entire ships in his lion’s metal jaws. 

For a long terrifying stretch of time, they had been scared they had lost Shiro in battle as his Lion had fallen silent. No matter how much they had tried reaching out to him, he hadn’t responded. Keith was first to reach him and shield him away from the entire Galra fleet with his own Lion, nearly dying in the battle himself after getting caught in the crossfire of an ion cannon. 

The hysterical screams from the remaining three paladins, as well as their redoubled efforts to protect their friends, had jolted Shiro back to consciousness; he had suffered a minor concussion, but seeing Keith near death had sent him into a fury.

It was a miracle all of them made it out alive. Some of the Zarentians fighting alongside them for their people’s freedom, however…

But, Zarentia was freed. The Galra fleet’s defenses took a critical hit, and Pidge managed to tangle their networks after downloading a debilitating virus that turned the ion cannon against its own ship. They had no choice but to retreat, losing another hold of their once vast empire. 

The Paladins returned to the Castle to get some well-earned rest. 

They embraced one another in the hanger. Their bodies trembled, but they held back the tears. 

Despite their paladin suits of armor, they had still sustained injuries. Nothing that required using healing pods, so they decided to spend the quiet post-war hours tending to one another’s injuries, crack a couple of jokes to lighten the mood—they were certainly all tense and needed something to lift the weight off their shoulders. They bathed to wash off the sweat, then decided to swim together in the pool. After helping Hunk prepare dinner, they silently ate together, all still too shaken and feeling the first waves of fatigue. Afterwards they slipped to the lounge room. 

A nice, relaxing movie had seemed just the thing, but all they could find was some documentary recorded by who must have been Coran’s grandfather and Coran himself, who was much younger and a total uncooperative brat. Lance moaned. 

“Coran’s granddad was even worse than him!” he cried out before his head planted on Pidge’s lap; soon, gigantic, earth-shattering snores filled the room. 

By the time adult Coran had come to rouse them, they were all cuddled up together, snuggled up in blankets embracing one another as if they were all they had in the universe. Which…wasn’t too far from the truth. 

Coran’s heart melted at the sight, debated about disturbing them, but in the end decided to wake them up. It would be rude not to heed to the call of The Dlaneah, the prime leader and priestess of the Zarentia. 

They were still in their bedclothes when they entered the observation deck. The Dlaneah’s call was on such short notice, but they tried to make themselves presentable in their robes, pajama bottoms, and fluffy lion slippers. At least Lance hadn’t had on the mask; he was too exhausted even for that last night. 

“And these must be my esteemed heroes,” The Dlaneah said upon seeing them. She gave an elaborate bow; the paladins glanced at Coran who gave them an encouraging nod, and they replicated The Dlaneah’s bow. 

“It is our honor and our mission to free the universe of Zarkon’s rule,” Shiro said. 

The Dlaneah’s laughter rang like bells. Her ears, resembling that of rabbit ears, hung down over her head on each side. Her eyes, large and bright blue, glimmered in the pure crystalline light of her halls from where she held her communications with them. 

“Your saving of the Zarentian Belt could not have come at a more meaningful time,” she said. “Tomorrow begins the Nzinuva festivities.” 

At the mention of festivities, Lance perked up, his eyes looking around eagerly for any mention of there being parades to celebrate the heroes who had brought them freedom. 

“Neezeee-nuva?” Hunk trailed off and glanced around, hoping to get more info from Allura, Coran, or The Dlaneah. 

Allura turned to them, smiling brightly. 

“The Zarentian Belt runs on a fixed yearly calendar: eight days in a week, four weeks per month, and fourteen months in a year. After the last day of the last month are three days unmarked on neither part of the first month nor the last.” 

Pidge’s eyes widened excitedly at this bit of info. “Like Earth’s International Fixed Calendar proposed by Moses Bruine Cotsworth in 1902! It was never adopted by any country, though…” 

Keith’s eyebrow cocked. “What?” 

“It’s to keep the months intact, so every month in a year begins on a Sunday, is twenty-eight days long, and ends on a Saturday!” Pidge explained excitedly. “And after December 31st, an extra day, Year Day, is celebrated, and it’s counted on its own. The year begins all over again, so the Cotsworth January 1st is the same as the Gregorian January 1st. Leap years still exist, but they happen after June, and like the Year Day, they are not counted as a day in a month.” 

Everyone regarded her for one stunned moment. 

“That would require thirteen months,” Shiro said after doing a quick math in his head. 

“The new month is Sol, between June and July.” 

“Well, if _that_ Earth calendar needed thirteen months for seven-day weeks, and an extra day at the end,” Hunk said as he did his own calculations, “then Zarentia’s orbit around its sun must last much longer!” 

“Four hundred forty-eight, plus the three days for the Nzinuva festivities,” Pidge added, delighted as she adjusted her glasses on her nose. Lance moaned, clearly unable to catch up. 

The Dlaneah chuckled. “Correct on all accounts, esteemed Paladins. And now for talk of our festivities. As our most honored guests, I welcome you to join us at the capital of Zarentia, in Horikawa. You will be welcome to explore my planets during the day, but in the evenings you are required to attend the gala at the capital where you will be served the finest cuisines representative of the five planets of the belt, and individually honored. The first night of celebration will be on the second evening.” 

“We thank you deeply, honorable Dlaneah,” Princess Allura said, whose cheeks were burning red at the mention of all the ravish praise they were about to receive. “We only did what we believe is right.” 

The Dlaneah’s eyes glowed with delight. “And it will be our shared honor, Princess, to toast to your good hearts. Be well, my paladins.”

*

The region of Zarentia they entered was undergoing through its winter season. The Nzinuva festivities came in the midst of winter, when the skies were the brightest blue and the clouds nearly glowing white under the bright sun-star, icicles crystalline and snow glimmering like an endless sheet of finely ground diamonds under their feet.

The paladins glanced around themselves, mouths agape in awe. The chill was more than bearable, especially for a world encased in white. 

“A winter wonderland,” Lance sighed and wrapped his arms around Pidge’s shoulders. “Isn’t that romantic?” 

“This is incredible,” Shiro agreed towards Keith and Hunk. Keith stood with his arms folded and he was studying some leaves which looked like they were carved from blue topaz, tucked under a canopy of white branches. 

“It…is,” Keith eventually said. Hunk crouched next to him to study the leaves. The branches suddenly shook and they heard Shiro gave a yelp. 

“ _LANCE!_ ” 

Hunk turned towards Keith. “Snowball fight?” 

Keith smirked. “Like Lance has any chance against me.”

*

The snow fight took them past hills, down frozen streams, and beside lines of sparkling white trees. A few avian beings with thick white and pale brown feathers poked their heads from under willow-like trees to peer quizzically at them with black, glittery eyes.

The battle was unmatched. Pidge grew immune to Lance’s charms soon enough, betraying him and Hunk and joining up forces with Keith and Shiro. With her on their side, the two young men didn’t have a prayer; snowballs flew, trees shook, and birds flew out from their hiding places, gawking with the merest hints of amused looks on their cute beaked faces as they flew for cover here and there. 

“Hey, hey, stop!” Lance begged and giggled after they passed under a long tunnel leading into a wide garden-like field of white and glittering sapphire flowers and plants. The tunnel itself was comprised of spiraling white branches from the nearby trees, entwined beautifully like magic. 

Shiro and Keith paused and glanced back, eyes narrowed suspiciously and expecting a snowball in their direction at any moment. 

“Kiss!” Lance said excitedly, pointing above their heads. “Kiss! Mistletoe!” 

After a moment of confirming Lance wasn’t going to attack them, they glanced up. Sure enough, a small glimmering branch hung from the mouth of the tunnel. 

“They have mistletoe on this planet?” Shiro questioned out loud. 

Keith just stood there studying the plant, then Shiro’s lips, then the plant again. Feeling all others’ eyes on him, a blush blossomed on his cheek, but he didn’t stir. Lance groaned. 

“If you won’t kiss him, I will!” 

He shoved Keith aside and grabbed Shiro’s strong arms, hoisting himself on his tiptoes for the kiss. It came quick and fast, and a second later Lance was roughly tugged away. 

“Ow, Keith, what the hell?!” 

“That wasn’t me!” Keith yelled from somewhere several feet away. Lance landed hard on the ground. Hunk helped him back to his feet, and after dusting off the snow from his jeans, Lance glanced around him. Shiro had dodged under the mistletoe, but he was eyeing it now with a wide, anxious expression. 

“Ah, looks like you’ve found the Drizzlethrow!” Coran said cheerfully as he came up to them. “Throws out anyone daring to exhibit improper displays of affection in public while underneath it!” 

Hunk glared at the Drizzlethrow. “A little kiss isn’t an improper display of affection!” 

“That’s not a mistletoe?” Lance said, dispirited. 

“Not at all!” Coran said, who probably had never heard of them speak of mistletoe before this moment. “I hope it hasn’t drizzled its venom all over you? There is no known antidote.” 

Shiro blanched. Immediately Keith examined him as Pidge gave a very panicked Lance a proper run down. Hunk backed away one step, but he continued to give the Drizzlethrow the stink-eye. “No, no signs of venom, Coran.” 

“Excellent! Allura says The Dlaneah is ready to meet you right now.” 

They followed Coran past the garden and located a tall opaline building shaped like a giant almond. They dusted the snow off their shoulders before stepping in, not wishing to be seen twice in a row in bad form. 

The Dlaneah welcomed them warmly all the same. There were others present in the hall Allura and Coran led them to: ambassadors from the other four planets, high ministers and priestesses, senators and even a few celebrities eager to give them a small preview of the piece they were to preform for the gala. 

“And now to discuss what you will all be wearing at the ball,” Allura said when the meeting adjoined and the team settled themselves into a suite for themselves. She bounced on the balls of her feet, and they could not blame her. After missing a chance to browse through the Space Mall, this had to be the next best thing: getting a new, shiny dress tailored just for her. “Coran, Shiro, and I will remain here and be serviced at the Horikawa capital. That was at the request of The Dlaneah herself. We’ve decided the neighboring planet for each of you. Their best tailors will design the finest robes for all you, and a dress for Pidge, for the gala, and I’m sure you will all look marvelous.” 

“More marvelous than we already are,” Lance said with a wide grin. Allura sighed, but she continued smiling.

*

After a dinner with The Dlaneah they took a tour of Horikawa. The first day of the festivities were often the most quiet. Civilians had the day off from work or school to spend time with the family, leaving the streets nearly bare. But some had popped their heads to steal a glance at their savors; some of those faces wore a somber, though grateful, expressions.

It wasn’t hard to figure out why. 

The names of their fallen comrades were engraved on a war memorial in the middle of the capital. The team stood before it for several moments to pay their respects, then Princess Allura gave a moving speech to those who had come to listen. The names trailed to the ground, written in tiny cramped style; there had been a lot more dead than any of them previously imagined—there had been multiple attempts at overthrowing Galra rule before the aid of Voltron—and the paladins could not tear their eyes away, haunted as they were, as Princess Allura gave her speech. 

Applause and many blessings rained down on them, and some ran over to offer them gifts, or to shake their hands in gratitude for their remembrance of the fallen soldiers—especially those whose loved ones had died while fighting alongside them—and some who wanted their autographs or pictures taken, wishes which Lance was more than happy to indulge. Some stood back and wept loudly, the wounds still too raw. Their wails rattled in everyone’s heads long after the crowd dispersed. 

As they turned back towards the Castle, Hunk held back a stifle, then Shiro wrapped an arm around him. 

“It could have been you,” Keith said in a low voice. “It could have been any of us.” 

Long stretches of silence passed as the eerie thought hung over their heads. 

“All the more reason to celebrate,” Lance said with a smile he hoped would raise their spirits.

*

They had opted to sleep snuggled up in the lounge room again, which offered them a chance to makeshift a bed wide enough for all of them. The Galra Empire was still out there and still a threat, but they had chosen to take this short recess to spend time with the peoples of Zarentia. The thought of future wars, future chances of possibly losing one another, haunted them as they bathed, dressed into their night clothes, and kissed one another before setting up their bed.

With a wide television set they could pick any movie and cuddle under plenty of blankets and pillows, and not to mention with the familiar setting of this room, and the presence of each other, they felt they could sleep comfortably and forget things for a while. Leave the threat of the Galra outside of the protective walls of the Castle and beyond the exosphere of the Zarentian Belt. If any of their dreams turned into violent nightmares, the others were just inches away and ready to soothe them back into steady slumbers. 

“Still sleeping here? Didn’t think Earthlings would be this fascinated by my dear late grandfather’s documentaries!” Coran said, laughing. 

A few of the paladins smiled dryly. They had tried a film, but after a scene had left Shiro’s eyes gazing out as if peering far away, lost and near panic, the others decided something as corny and endearing as Coran’s documentaries were a better option. 

They ate a quick breakfast before giving one another one last kiss before parting ways. 

“Save a dance for me,” they said to one another before rushing to get into their paladin armor.

*

The Zarentian Belt was amazing. Each of the five planets were vastly different from one another. After getting into their respective lions, the Paladins head for their planet. Each were given a gift to bestow to the senator of the capital.

Pidge’s planet was the smallest, and its own inhabitants were clearly about a foot shorter than The Dlaneah and the other Zarentians they had met yesterday. 

“Well, no wonder why I was chosen to come here,” Pidge laughed. “I should be easy for them to measure.” 

The greeting was as warm as yesterday. After a brief diplomatic meet with the senator, Pidge was given a tour of the planet and then taken to a tailor. The Green Lion stood nearby for civilians to come admire her. 

As it turned out, there were several tailors hired for each paladin. They spoke excitedly in their native tongue, pointing to sketches of the Green Lion then to Pidge and rummaging through several simple dresses they had already set up for her as their base. 

Once they found one both Pidge and the tailors liked, they adjusted to fit her frame, then added on leaves of emeralds, entwining vines as a crown for the top of her head reminiscent of the Olkari diadem. 

“Would that be Eshir Pidge?” one of them asked as they held up a brooch to secure to her sash.

“Pardon?” Pidge asked. 

“Eshir,” the Zarentian repeated. She pointed at herself. “I would be Eshira Oilia. Your princess is Eshira Allura. Your leader is Eshirit Shiro. And you…” 

Pidge gasped, finally understanding. “Yes, please! How…how did you know?” 

Two of the other Zarentians gave her warm knowing smiles.

*

Shiro didn’t want too much attention on him, but five Zarentians were tasked to the job of preparing him for the gala. They fussed over every feature of his naked body with rapt fascination. When it was with the other paladins, it was different; they were his lovers, and even they respected his boundaries. But this…

His face burned. 

“Please, sir, I hope you do not mind my apprentices’s enthusiasms,” the main tailor said. “We are beyond honored to dress the leader and head of Voltron.” 

The women were given dresses, but the suits for the men were more adequately described as robes. They were easy to move around in—just like all of the clothes of the Zarentians—but far more grandiose in style than anything The Dlaneah had ever worn. 

The robes they slipped over Shiro’s head rolled over his skin like water. Material like black or a dark violet statin with the tiniest of gold glimmering, like a galaxy. He raised his right arm and noticed the gold grew more concentrated. 

“Please understand, our fight with the Galra have been long and we have lost many,” the tailor explained. “And some who returned to us bore many injuries, like yourself. We wish to celebrate these scars instead of cover them. We hope that does not offend you.” 

“Kintsugi,” Shiro said under his breath, studying the glimmering gold of his right arm and the gashes over the regions of his torso, his left shoulder, his legs, beautifully rendering his own scars. He looked back up. “We have a similar concept in my home planet. We fix broken pottery with lacquer dusted in powdered gold. I used to watch my grandmother do this.” 

Their faces lit up, delighted at the thought. 

“And now for your scar.” They indicated to the one across the bridge of his nose. 

Shiro tensed. His facial scar was very sensitive, as were all the ones marring his body. Keith was the first to learn in being extremely gentle whenever a finger or a kiss brushed over a scar. Then Pidge, who learned quickly from Keith. Lance and Hunk, always joined at the hips, came last but were respectful and at first avoided the worst of his scars until he assured them he was fine. Just sensitive to the touch.

“It won’t hurt, and the gold won’t be too noticeable and will be easy to wash off later,” another explained. Just a dab of color across your face, like a…what do you humans call it, freckles?” 

Shiro eventually nodded and faced the mirror, hoping he would not come to regret this decision. They stayed true to their word; the amount applied was minimal, and he didn’t feel overwhelmed with the dust applied across his nose. When he looked in the mirror, he had to smile. The gold went with the look. It sent an important message.

*

Allura and Coran were elegantly dressed for the gala. They were the first to greet him and spent a good bit of time admiring the tailor’s woke. Coran was fitted into a handsome teal suit, and Allura in an enchanting dress of in the capital’s favored colors of crystalline white and the brightest blue.

They were the first of the team at the gala, and as the esteemed special guests they were hoisted here and there to be introduced by even more important people from the various planets. 

The first to return back was Keith, and Shiro’s jaws dropped upon seeing him. Keith’s eyes appeared like they were lit on fire; the side of his face and temples were painted with such bright, jewel-tone colors that they appeared to pop every time Keith passed under a shadowy patch in the vast dance hall. 

His robes were ruby red and black and gold, making him stand out even more even while he was trying to press himself against the wall and disappear. 

“If I may take this dance?” Shiro asked. Keith’s face flushed the moment he saw him. 

“You look good,” Keith said, tracing Shiro’s jaw. 

“I saw him first,” spoke Pidge as she suddenly appeared. The two gawked, enraptured, by her appearance. 

“Then I honorably resign my failure to you,” Shiro said with a bow and kissed her hand. 

“Hey, I thought you said you would dance with _me_ first!” Lance whined as he pounced into the room with Hunk close behind. If Lance ever wished to become one with the mermaids, he had gotten his wish. His tailors had certainly saw the quality in him to transform him into a walking merperson. But Shiro was certain the velvet blue cape with the white trim, fitting for kings, was entirely Lance’s idea. 

Hunk’s own robes were thick with embroidery, with patterns of jagged lines like mountain tops. 

Pidge made a display of mock distain as Lance led her to the dance floor, but soon they were both laughing and dancing before they dragged in Hunk. Shiro took Keith’s hand and proceeded with a slower dance. At some point Pidge joined them, having successfully slipped away from Lance. 

“Hey, is that mistletoe?” Lance asked when they walked over to rest. 

“Not this again,” Hunk moaned. 

“No, this time it _is_ mistletoe!” Lance insisted, grinning from ear to ear. 

“Did you put that there?” Keith demanded. “It looks like something from Pidge’s dress.” 

“Oooh! And who’s been studying Pidge’s dress all evening long?” Lance retorted playfully. 

Realizing she was right underneath it, Pidge and Keith glanced at one another, shrugged, and gave one another a kiss before each one took a turn kissing Shiro. 

“Hey, you’re missing someone!” 

Shiro smirked. “You’re right—come on over, Hunk!” 

Lance made a gratuitous display of injustice, as grand as only Lance could pull, as each paladin kissed Hunk until finally Hunk grew pity on Lance and swept him in for a passionate kiss under the mistletoe.

*

The minstrels represented all of the Belt’s planets and they played their best music for the Paladins of Voltron, for Princess Allura and her advisor Coran. They were made to sit at the high table with The Dlaneah who praised them before all of the guests with such kind words that moved and embarrassed them. Princess Allura accepted more gifts in recognition of their work towards peace and freedom. And the dinner itself was outstanding in every possible way.

The gala stretched on for the rest of the night. After a few more meet-and-greets, the paladins found themselves again from the crowd and stole away to a wide patio to admire the night sky. They laughed lightly amongst one another as they speculated about the other planets capturing hues of red or gold, or sometimes lime-green, from their vantage point. Zarentia’s central planet had only one moon like Earth, but the planet Hunk had been to had three, and Lance’s and Pidge’s had two. Keith’s had none. 

“You can share my moon,” Shiro teased softly in Keith’s ear. He had one arm around Keith’s waist; the other arm was wrapped around Pidge’s shoulder. Next to her was Lance, and on his right was Hunk. 

“So one more night like this,” Shiro mused loudly. Keith gave his side a squeeze. 

“I won’t forget tonight” Hunk said after a yawn. “We earned it.” 

“Then it’s back to battle,” Keith said. 

“We have one more day to not think about that,” Lance added. 

Pidge nodded. “It’s a new year for the Zarentians. A time to celebrate having survived a year and to spend with our loved ones. I’m glad you’re all with me.” 

They all smiled and voiced their agreement. They huddled closer, embracing under the glimmering silver moon.


End file.
